March 13th, 2021 – In Which Soren Takes too Flipping Long to Get to the Point While Digressing into Personal History
“Send out your light and your truth;
let them guide me.
Let them lead me to your holy mountain,
to the place where you live.” -Psalm 43:3
I take for granted how significant places of worship can be for people, especially for those who stay in the same area for decades. I used to have this feeling for the church I grew up in, was called to ministry at, taught at, and even preached at.
But, at age 17 there was a breakdown in leadership, my mentor stood up when he thought child abuse was going on, and he was kicked out. So, I left with him.
During this time, and the church’s attempt to woo me back, I had this line of dialogue from “Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix” going through my brain:
“I see you are —”
“Dumbledore’s man through and through,” said Harry. “That’s right.”
And with that sentiment, I joined my mentor at another local church. This second church was where I knew the pastor and had participated in a few events over the last few years of me being called to ministry. I knew some of the people so it wasn’t like starting over emotionally, but it was strange, and I never really fit.
Eventually, I ended up cutting ties with this second church due to loyalty to the pastor, who got thrown under the bus by his congregation. My mentor had already left the church a couple of years earlier and went through his slice of Hell.
I guess, if there is a point to this, is I value loyalty to a person over a group or organization. This comes from my Southern Baptist roots. While in undergrad and grad school I dug deep into exploring where Baptists and Anabaptist came from and the strengths and weaknesses of those doctrinal systems.
This is also around the time I discovered Christian existentialism, Christian anarchy, Tolstoy’s spiritual writings, and Soren Kierkegaard in general.
Anyone who knows me and has had life-affirming conversations with me knows that this was a pivotal coming together of a variety of thoughts, ideals, and experiences I was trying to make sense of.
For those who are capable of remaining in the same ten-mile radius for their entire lives, I see how valuable a dedicated place of worship is.
Throughout most of the Old Testament, the Israelites had places where they met God at. Of course, God was not LIMITED to that area, but part of human dynamics and even worship is routine.
I am a vagabond and not by choice.
There is a part of me that would love to find a place to set down roots (or even return to the small town I grew up in that several generations of my family lived), but I feel in my bones that it will never happen again.
It’s strange how some Truth is so intrinsic that we accept it, even when to do so causes a measure of grief.
And I think grief is the right word to use when someone leaves their homeland, when they have become detached from so many of the measures society uses to deem success, and when you are an alien and stranger in your own country.
So, even though I will never experience an answer to the prayer in this Psalm, I get why having the luxury of normality is so important. I hope to always remain connected to the current church that I am a member of, but churches change with their people.
From the age of 15-17, I had no idea how I would leave the church I grew up in. Going to university several hours away would mean needing to set up a new home church, but I got an unexpected push due to my loyalty to a person over an institution.
Maybe one day when I have wrinkles and fingers that struggle to move from arthritis, I will have found a place to call home for the remainder of my days.
Who knows?
Not me.
All I know is that my faith is equal parts journey and destination. The only way for the destination to make sense is to walk boldly into the journey I have been allotted.
“It is unearned love--the love that goes before, that greets us on the way. It's the help you receive when you have no bright ideas left, when you are empty and desperate and have discovered that your best thinking and most charming charm have failed you. Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrassed and eventually grateful as you are to be there.”
― Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith
